Like a Fine Wine
by insaneantics21
Summary: *Puppy-verse #23* When Santana sees definite signs of getting older she isn't exactly happy about it.


**Preceded by:**

Puppy | My Girl(s) | Perfection | Decisions | Baby Love  
Baby Love 2 | Slushies: The Next Generation | Little Gold Stars  
Change | Baby Just Say Yes | (Not Quite) Nine Months  
Double Trouble | Bigger is Better | Miracles | The Beginning  
Mother's Day | First Date | Sick Day | Mondays | Nervous  
Storms | Nightmares

* * *

**-September 2027-**  
If Santana had to make a list of all of her fears it would seem fairly typical: Losing her family, dying, losing her job, spiders (they're creepy, okay?), Sue Sylvester cloning herself…just the normal things. Getting older wasn't on that list. Not yet, anyway. She knew she couldn't do a back hand spring anymore or crawl to the top of a cheerleading pyramid. She was okay with that, though. She could keep up with her kids and Brittany and that was all she needed. There were a couple of lines on her face where there weren't before; Brittany, Rachel, and Quinn had them as well. It wasn't a big deal. None of it was a big deal. At least not until she looked in the mirror one morning and brushed through her thick, black hair only to find something that most definitely wasn't there before.

"Oh…my God. Brittany!"

A sleepy blonde stumbled into the bathroom to kiss her wife good morning. "What's up?"

"Look at this!" Santana pointed to a seemingly normal patch of black hair on her hairline above her left eye she had held in her fist.

"It's your hair."

"I know! How long has _that_ been there?"

"Um…we met when we were five and you had a lot of it then so, like…"

"No! Look closer! Right there!" Santana pointed again.

Brittany shrugged. "I dunno. I saw it a couple weeks ago."

"What?"

"I think it's kinda sexy."

"No, B, it's totally _not_ sexy. God, there's like a whole freakin streak…how the hell did I not see this?"

Again, Brittany shrugged. The blonde pecked her wife on the cheek before bouncing out of the room to go start breakfast leaving Santana staring at the mirror and the (now extremely noticeable to the Latina's eyes) streak of gray hair mixed in with the jet black.

Santana tossed her phone on the kitchen counter and growled at it. Why did her hairdresser have to be booked solid? Why did it have to be homecoming weekend for half the freakin' schools in New York City? She knew any other stylist would tell her the exact same thing.

"Just go buy a box of stuff," Brittany said as she dried another dish. "I'll help."

"That stuff never turns out right."

"I still think it's sexy."

"Mami!" Joshua skidded into the kitchen and into Santana's side with a wide grin on his face. "Mami, come play!" The just-turned four-year-old tugged on his mother's hand and pulled her to the living room where Milo was sitting contently on the floor with a shapes cube and gurgling happily. Forgetting her worries about getting a little older, Santana dropped to the floor and Joshua immediately tackled her. Milo squealed and giggled and followed his brother's lead, jumping on top of the pile. Santana rolled around with her boys, play wrestling, until Joshua got distracted by something on TV and Milo again shadowed his big brother.

Santana smiled at the pair and attempted to sit up but a stabbing pain in her lower back made her yelp and drop back to the floor.

"Shhh-Brittany!"

"Mami are you okay?" Joshua appeared in her line of sight with his eyebrows raised and bright blue eyes filled with concern.

"Not really, no. I think Mami hurt her back."

Brittany came running and looked down curiously at her wife sprawled out on her back on the living room floor. "What'd you do?"

"I think I threw my back out or something. Help me up."

The blonde nodded and Santana reached up to take her hand. The minute she sat up the stabbing pain returned and Santana cried out again. This was not good. Not good at all.

"Do you want me to call someone?" Brittany worried her lower lip between her teeth and Santana just shook her head.

"Get me like…a heating pad or something."

It took an hour before Santana was able to hoist herself off of the floor and into the recliner. She loved her sons, she really did, but they weren't the most helpful when they tried to climb into her lap to check to see if she was okay. Joshua's knee hit her ribcage causing her to jerk up which sent her back into another muscle spasm. Milo thought she was playing a game and started shrieking along with her which got Duck howling and thirty seconds later there was a knock at the door.

"Is everything alright? I was running by and heard screaming."

The minute Rachel's voice echoed through the entry way Joshua and Milo were springing off of Santana's lap to greet their aunt. Santana massaged her back and ribcage to try and ease a little of the pain.

"Santana hurt her back."

Rachel was at Santana's side in a flash, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Should I call an ambulance?"

"No, Berry. God, I'm shocked your kids aren't living in a plastic bubble. I'm fine."

"You should see a doctor. Chronic back injuries can lead to permanent damage, Santana. Quinn knows of an excellent chiropr-"

"I'm _fine_."

"As you get older these things are going to happen-"

"I am not old!" Santana's shout was louder than she intended. Her son's eyes glued to her with curiosity. Brittany shrugged. Rachel held up her hands and backed away slowly. "God, I'm only thirty."

"You're thirty three."

"Thanks, B," Santana growled.

"She found gray hairs this morning so she's mad about being old."

"Gray hair is absolutely natural, Santana. Embrace it!"

"I see three of them on you."

Rachel's face was absolutely worth the pain when Santana burst out laughing. The diva mumbled something about soccer practice before covering her head and running out of the house.

"I didn't see anything," Brittany said, confused.

"There weren't any, I just wanted to mess with her."

Santana spent the rest of the day in the recliner (although she was tempted to hide when Rachel showed back up ranting about how she had been deceived and Santana would pay). Joshua and Milo drew picture after picture for her. Each time, Joshua would crawl up onto her lap and grin as he thrust the papers out.

"Are you better yet, Mami?"

"You're helping, mijo. Thank you very much."

Minutes later there would be more papers covered in crayon scribbles and random letters. Santana grinned and set them aside to be put away later.

After convincing Brittany that she was well enough to get up for dinner, Santana clenched her jaw and shuffled to the kitchen to sit at her place.

"You walk like Nana," Joshua noted.

Santana whimpered.

It took a three hour fight in order for Santana to agree to go to the doctor. It took another hour to convince him not to press charges after Santana took a swing at him when he mentioned her age and that she wasn't sixteen anymore. She knew she wasn't sixteen anymore, that was common knowledge. But getting older like this? It wasn't something she wanted to hear about.

"Mija, you're getting older, it happens."

"That's not what I wanted to hear, Mami," Santana sighed. She was sprawled out on the couch with an ice pack on her back, as per doctor's orders, and not happy with her mother right then. She would've hung up on her but the old woman would've shown up at Santana's doorstep just to smack her in the head and lecture her about disrespect.

"You're lucky you waited until you were thirty-three for gray hair. I had plenty by the time I was thirty thanks to you and your brother, _¿sabas que?_"

Santana smirked. "I worked hard for those."

"Yes you did, mija. I'm sure _mi nietos_ are working just as hard for theirs."

"They are."

"Good boys."

Santana growled.

"Don't you worry about getting older, mija. It's what happens and there's no stopping it, you might as well get used to it."

Santana growled again.

Slowly but surely, Santana regained full strength. Her back would still catch every now and then and the doctor tried to push her to get to a chiropractor. Santana told him to go to hell, she didn't have the time. It seemed like every new sign of getting older was popping out at her. A new line here, a new gray hair there. Brittany still insisted the gray hair was sexy and for that reason only, Santana kept it. She wasn't going to deny her wife any turn on. It still weighed on her mind, though. With every joint pain and every time she had to try a little harder to cover up a wrinkle, it weighed.

When someone is stuck in their own mind it's not often they see that they change. Brittany noticed it right away. Santana was quieter and a little spacey. Rachel and Quinn noticed solely for the reason that Santana started calling Rachel by her first name rather than "Berry". Brittany tried to take her out on a date to talk about it, Quinn slipped a card with a therapist's name on it into a returned book, and Rachel flat out looked Santana in the eyes and said, "Santana, we're concerned. You've been extremely distant lately and it's imperative that you not hold these emotions in but rather let them out. I'm sure you're aware that you have several options should you wish to open up."

Santana believed and told them all the same thing.

"I'm fine. You're all just freakin' paranoid."

It wasn't until a Saturday a few weeks later when Santana had the boys to herself because Brittany had to take over a class at her studio that it became very clear that things were most definitely not fine. Santana put Milo down for his nap just after lunch and allowed Joshua to stay up for a few minutes longer since he'd slept in that morning. The young blonde boy snuggled up to Santana's side on the couch while Cartoon Network buzzed in the background. Santana's eyes focused on the television, her mind focused on how she'd twisted wrong in the kitchen during lunch and the pain that shot through her back.

"Mami, how come you're sad?"

Santana furrowed her eyebrows and looked down to focus at her son. Just like they had been when she'd first hurt her back, Joshua's eyes were wide with concern. "I'm not sad, mijo."

"Mama said it to Aunt Rachel. When I'm sad I getta cookie. Do you wanna cookie?"

"No, I don't want a cookie. Thank you, though."

"Don't be sad, okay? I like smiles 'cause you're pretty when you smile, Mami."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're the prettiestest and the bestest Mami ever. But you gotta smile."

Tears welled in Santana's eyes and she willed for them not to spill over. But damn it all if her son wasn't the sweetest little dude on the planet. She held him a little closer as they finished the rest of the cartoons.

That evening she took Brittany out for dinner and a quick rendezvous at home and proved that, in some departments, she was just as feisty as she had been when they were seventeen. She sniped at "Berry" when Rachel made note of the fact that Santana's shirt was buttoned wrong when they picked the kids up.

"Welcome back, Lopez," Quinn said with a grin as Santana hoisted a sleepy Joshua on her hip.

"Whatever."

"What brought you around?"

Santana smirked. "I'm a Lopez, we're badass."

"Yeah, right."

Santana looked down at the blonde boy in her arms and smiled. She was totally a badass. But she was also the prettiestest and bestest Mami ever. And getting older was the last thing on her mind when she looked into the eyes of her beautiful wife and at her two sleeping sons because as long as she had them it didn't matter the wrinkles or gray hairs or aches and pains. Her heart would always be kept intact and in perfect condition.


End file.
